Outbreak of the Ancients
by Vecturist
Summary: The crew of Atlantis knew that the Wraith had scientists studying human biology. They just didn’t know the extent of it, or the possible consequences.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Outbreak of the Ancients

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters do not belong to me; I am just borrowing them, and promise to put everything back when I am done. Dr. Kyte Randall is my creation.

Spoilers: Up through "Aurora," for season 2, references to "The Gift" and "Hotzone" from season 1.

Pairings: McKay/Brown, Shep/Weir, Beckett/OC

Rating: T for some serious whumping

A/N: Ok, RL is being quite nice – a three-day weekend (Happy Veteran's Day in the USA) with little work to do. Time to write! Dr. Kyte Randall is my character from a few stories, although she won't be quite such a dominant character in this series. I am trying to work on a sequel to "Value of an Inheritance," though, for those interested. This story idea just hit me and I knew I had to write it.

Summary: The crew of Atlantis knew that the Wraith had scientists studying human genetics and molecular biology. They just didn't know the extent of it.

Chapter 1

"Hey Dr. Randall, catch!" The petite scientist whipped her head around to see a small black missile hurling her direction. A panicked look momentarily crossed her face as she tried to juggle a coffee mug and laptop to one hand catch the offending item with the other.

"Nice, thinking of starting a Zen rock garden," she called to Dr. McKay as she finger the polished stone.

"Ha, Ha. SGA-4 brought it back from a survey mission. They found it among some ruins with Ancient writing. I thought it might be some sort of artifact," snarked back Rodney.

"I hate to break it to you, Rodney, but to paraphrase Freud, 'sometimes a rock is just a rock," laughed Colonel Sheppard as Dr. Randall tossed the object back to him. "Just because it was near some Ancient writing, doesn't make it an artifact."

"So, nothing," glared Dr. McKay, grabbing the rock back. She nodded.

"Nothing from anyone else?" asked Dr. Randall. Sheppard and McKay both shook their heads. "I hate to break it to you, but I think the Colonel's right, although it does look like some of the artifacts we've seen. If two natural ATA genes and a manufactured gene can't activate something, maybe it's just a rock. " She paused a minute. "Well, if I'm done here, I need to get back to work. Will I see you later, Colonel?"

"I'm going to skip the run tonight, you and Ronon are getting just a little too competitive, besides I've got a stack of mission reports to review. Dinner?

"Probably. Actually Ronon's upset, I've been ducking out on him lately, too. Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Fitzgerald have both been keeping me busy. I think I managed to miss breakfast and lunch yesterday and today. I think dinner was a powerbar last night." She looked at the coffee mug in her hand. "Sleep is a caffeine substitute." She shrugged.

"Don't let Carson hear that, you know his mother hen tendencies, " grimaced Sheppard. "I'm surprised he hasn't hunted you down yet."

"He's busy with a few projects of his own. Besides, since we've started dating, he's not my doctor, you know conflict of interest."

"Well, in that case, I'll let Dr. Biro know," lectured Sheppard.

"Colonel. Pot. Kettle. Black."

"See you at dinner, that's an order."

Dr. Randall looked at the coffee mug and laptop, then back at the Colonel, deciding that it wasn't worth the time to argue, she wasn't even military. She nodded and headed back down the hall, breaking into a graceful run. Sheppard shook his head, then headed off in an opposite direction. McKay turned back to the artifact to run a few more tests.

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A few hours later, Colonel Sheppard picked up his tray and looked around for a place to sit. He didn't feel much like eating, but figured teasing Rodney about the 'artifact' might be worth a few laughs. To his surprise, the Canadian was picking at his food, even though the cafeteria's special that night was one of his favorites. "You haven't seen Kyte around, have you?"

Rodney shook his head as he rolled his peas around. "There's Ronon, maybe he knows."

"No," growled Ronon. "She promised me we'd go running today, after I told her I set up one of the upper decks as an obstacle course. She said she was looking forward a change in routine."

"Not like Dr. Randall to break a promise," nodded Sheppard. "Carson," he added, "You haven't seen Kyte?"

"No, I haven't seen the lass in a few days. I know we've both been pretty busy,"

"Well, I took over your role and ordered her to come to dinner. She's been skipping meals and sleep." Carson nodded in appreciation, then tried the radio.

"She's not answering. Dr. Fitzgerald said she went to her quarters to nap an hour ago. I'll go make sure she's ok," physician winning out over boyfriend. "Actually come to think of it, both of you look a little feverish, and obviously have lost your appetites, which really has me concerned. I'll see you in the infirmary."

Both men groaned, but realized neither felt well. Maybe the flu was going around. That was a reasonable explanation, wasn't it?

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"Kyte?" called Carson, trying the door chime. He waited a moment then hit the medical override. The lights were out, and he noticed the figure cocooned in the bed, under a pile of blankets and quilts. He touched her forehead, she was burning up. "Kyte?"

"Five more minutes, ok Da? They'll cancel school for all this snow, right?" she moaned, clearly feverish and delusional.

Carson, noticed Ronon standing in the doorway. "I need to get her to the infirmary, can you carry her?" Ronon nodded, scooping up the scientist and her quilts as if he was collecting laundry.

In the infirmary, Carson was momentarily pleased to see McKay and Sheppard had followed orders and were already in scrubs, and having vitals checked. Neither was putting up much resistance, which worried him. He nodded to another doctor to do the same for Kyte, then left to check on Sheppard and McKay. A few minutes later, he had the summaries, none of which were good. All were suffering from high fevers, and flu-like symptoms, McKay seemed be in the best shape of the three. IV fluids and anti-virals seemed to be helping at least maintain their present conditions, but he was worried. How had the three of them, who had barely any contact in the past few days come down with something? Why wasn't anyone else affected. He shook his head and walked to his office to try and reconstruct their activities the past few days.

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Carson started, when he realized that someone was trying to contact him on the radio. "You'd better get to Dr. Weir's office, there's something you need to see," said one of the linguists. She sounded scared.

"Dr. Weir was pacing in her office, when he entered. She didn't look too happy. News that had to be delivered at this time of night could not be good, nor resolved easily, judging from the pot of coffee already brewing. Dr. Baker, the linguist he had spoken to stood in a corner, hands jammed into jacket pockets. Another archaeology type perched on a couch. Both looked exhausted. Major Lorne stood at attention, and for a moment Dr. Beckett wondered where Sheppard and McKay were, then realized the absurdity of that thought.

"We'd better start," said Dr. Weir quietly.

"We finished translating the text from the site SGA-4 found. At first we thought it was Ancient, then realized there were two sets of text, written by two different individuals. The majority of it appears to be gibberish, someone trying to write Ancient," started Dr. Baker.

"Upon closer examination, we think the writer was really Wraith," added Dr. Timmons.

"So, someone was trying to fake something Ancient?" asked Dr. Weir. "Why?"

"To fool someone, we're not sure," put in Dr. Baker awkwardly. "They also brought back what appeared to be an Ancient artifact. Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard, and Dr. Randall all handled it, trying to activate it. Nothing happened." Everyone in the office was silent for a few moments. Why would the Wraith stage such an elaborate fake Ancient site, complete with an artifact? They were devious and deliberate in their actions, but this didn't appear to be their usual method of operation. Dr. Weir passed out mugs of coffee.

"Oh hell, not nothing," swore Carson, the coffee forcing neurons to fire. "Get me the names of everyone who handled the artifact, especially if they have the ATA gene." Puzzled looks met his. "All three people who handled the artifact, are now lying in the infirmary, seriously ill. It's not an Ancient artifact; it's something the Wraith designed. If you can't kill with missiles, try germ warfare. We know they were studying human genetics and molecular biology. Who says they couldn't have designed a virus to kill Ancients?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far, I think I'm going to have some fun with this scenario and I'm open to suggestions. References to Rising, Hotzone, The Gift. Big thanks to Dr. Dredd for letting me borrow Dr. Steven Schwartz; I really appreciate him for this scene.

Chapter 2

"Are you sure about that, Dr. Beckett? You think the Wraith would be booby trapping ruins," asked Major Lorne, trying to consider the ramifications of what the Scotsman had just said.

"More like taking advantage of the situation. I hate to admit it, but I think Carson has a plausible scenario. We know the Wraith were previously manipulating human genetics. Teyla's proof of that. Who's to say they didn't try to design a bioweapon?" said Dr. Weir, hands wrapped around her coffee mug.

"It doesn't make sense. Why would they want to kill their food source?" persisted Major Lorne.

"I don't know if this virus, if it is Wraith designed, is deadly. Simply incapacitating your foes could be enough. A sickened population isn't going to put up much resistance. That's been true since the beginning of warfare," explained Dr. Beckett. "All I know so far is I have three people who all possess some form of the ATA gene in the infirmary with something that resembles the flu, with an extremely short incubation period, which could stem from all of them handling the same artifact. It's pretty circumstantial at this point."

"Is there anything more you can add?" asked Dr. Weir, nodding to the linguist and the archeologist.

"We need to run some more tests, but we believe the newer set of text, as it were, is less than ten thousand years old. Maybe this pseudo-artifact, was deliberately left in case the Ancients came back with reinforcements or new weapons, It may be comparable to Teyla's necklace which was set to indicate the presence of Ancients," hypothesized Dr. Timmons.

"Let me get this straight. The Wraith leave a little welcome gift, in case the Ancients came back, to try and get rid of them one of way or another, be able to keep culling without interference and maybe gain access to Atlantis," summarized Major Lorne.

"Probably," answered Dr. Baker

"That's a lot of theorizing. I'd prefer some definite answers," replied Dr. Weir. She looked at Carson, "I'm guessing you have your own sets of questions and would like to return to the infirmary. Major Lorne, until we know what we're dealing with, no gate travel. We don't want to spread this virus, if that's what it is. Any survey teams are better off remaining offworld. Please keep me apprised of the situation," she turned to dismiss them and refilled her coffee mug. It was going to a long night and she didn't relish the thought of another outbreak in Atlantis.

Dr. Beckett hurried back to the infirmary and was met in the doorway by several of his staff members. He quickly filled them in on the details of the meeting and what they might be dealing with. Their tension and concern visibibly increased when he mentioned the possibility of a Wraith-engineered virus. At least there was some good news to report, fevers were still elevated, but not dangerously so, and all three were resting relatively comfortably for now. Carson started to go check on them himself, but was stopped by his 2IC, who shook his head. "Why?" Dr. Beckett asked impatiently.

"Would you think about what you just told us. Even if this virus is confined to those with the ATA gene, we have no idea how it is transmitted. You said that all three handled the artifact, but we don't know if the virus can become airborne or spread through person to person contact. We'll need to put Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay and Dr. Randall in strict isolation until we know more. We could be facing the possibility of a couple dozen people infected, yourself included. I'm going to need a blood sample from you and run a few tests, given your earlier contact with everyone. In fact I'm going to insist." Dr. Schwartz looked a little smug as he said this and gestured for a syringe and tourniquet Carson glowered, but knew Steven was being reasonable. At least Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay weren't here to witness this. Both would probably be snickering about the proverbial shoe being on the other foot. "I'll run this immediately to see if you are displaying any antibodies, although we still don't quite understand what we're up against, except as you said onset is very rapid. In the meantime, have a seat," indicateing one of the beds. Dr. Beckett suppressed the urge to throw something in frustration.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: Wow, I'm flattered at everyone who's paying attention. I've enjoyed your various works, hope mine doesn't disappoint. I'm a scientist and a little detail-oriented, so I'll try not to ramble on to long or get bogged down.

Carson knew the results of his blood work, even before one of his colleagues spoke. The medic behind her was carrying an open-backed hospital gown and robe. She spoke apologetically, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Sorry, but you're a patient now. You must have contracted it from Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, or Dr. Randall earlier. So far, you're the only we've tested who's showing the presence of antibodies, outside of the original cases, but we've pulled everyone from infirmary duty who has the ATA gene, and we're going to ask Dr. Weir to recommend quarters for anyone else in the general population with the gene."

"House arrest?" asked Carson, eyeing the gown handed to him with obvious distaste.

"Until we know what we're dealing with, in terms of virulence and transmission, it's the best option. We can't afford to take risks, as you well know. Dr. Biro's going to head up the research and we're in luck, the Daedalus is bringing an MD/PhD virologist and they'll be here in two days, although with this outbreak, it's a mixed blessing," the young doctor finished awkwardly. Both she and Carson realized that Caldwell's timing couldn't be better or worse, depending on your point of view. Three of Atlantis' key members were in quarantine, and Caldwell wasn't shy about gunning, so to speak, for Colonel Sheppard's position. Dr. Reik tapped her radio. "We've converted one of the storage areas to an isolation room, when you're ready."

A little while later, Carson was still adjusting to the indignities of this state of affairs, and trying to figure out how to stay in the loop, when the occupants of the room began to wake up. Sheppard was the first, eyes widening in surprise at the new room and the presence of Dr. Beckett as a fellow patient. He chuckled briefly at the physician, stripped, literally and figuratively, of his power and probably now subject to his own threats, before comprehending the seriousness of the situation. "It's not the flu, is it Doc," he asked with a resigned air.

"No, lad, I don't think it is. At least not the normal variety. The suspicion is that the artifact is actually something designed by the Wraith, to infect Ancients. The Colonel's eyes widened to almost cartoon-like proportions.

"You mean we're going to turn into Wraith? I don't think I can go through that again. Just shoot me now, Carson," demanded Sheppard. Carson wasn't sure how serious he was.

"Hush. It's not like that, I think," Carson was interrupted by Kyte's sudden awakening, going from sound asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds, with the shock of someone who falls sleep in one place and wakes up somewhere else.

"What the smeging…. Please tell me it was some bad sushi," she swore, realizing she was in the infirmary, and taking in the IVs and equipment.

"No such luck," muttered Sheppard. Carson nodded.

"Well, you said you wanted to spend some time together, however, this isn't what I had in mind -not much in the romance category, especially with an audience," Kyte attempted to joke, before lapsing into a fit of coughing.

"Hey, I was trying to sleep. Operative word being was," growled Rodney, sitting up and eyeing two of the room's three occupants glaring at him.

"Rodney, I think we're going to have to institute a no-touch rule for you and Ancient artifacts," Sheppard hissed, as Carson explained the situation.

"Oh sure blame me," sighed Dr. McKay dramatically. "It's always my fault."

"Well, you do have a tendency," started Sheppard, spoiling for a fight. The two traded insults for a few minutes, before noticing the presence of several doctors in protective layers, watching in amusement.

"Sorry to interrupt gentlemen, lady, but we need to run some tests," someone spoke, voice muffled by a mask. Four voices groaned nearly in unison. Temperatures were taken, blood was drawn, vitals noted.

"The masks were a good idea, I can't tell which of you is the sadist," grouched McKay. "Or maybe you all are, you had a good teacher. Did he give you each your own voodoo doll" nodding at Carson, then allowing himself a smug smile as Carson flinched at the needle and tried to protest that he'd just had blood drawn a few hours before. "We need to see how the disease is progressing," was the explanation. Carson resolved to invent better excuses. "We'll give you a copy of the results, " someone else promised him.

"Are you doing alright lass," he asked Dr. Randall, noticing she wasn't putting much resistance to all the poking and prodding.

"My stomach and my chest, everything feels all twisted up, like the time I got food poisoning, only worse," she said, wincing at the memory. "Never eat sushi in a land-locked state. Except maybe in Vegas…" she was shushed by a doctor listening again to her chest.

"You sound a little congested. I can give you something for your stomach and to ease your breathing, " he said nodding to someone behind him. Syringes were emptied into an IV port. "Better?"

"A little," she noted the worried looks reflected in eyes and on Dr. Beckett's face. "Guess I should try and relax, treat this as a vacation. Maybe work on the tan, with all these UV lights." There was nervous laughter.

"What's this about UV lights," demanded McKay, suddenly alert. "Haven't I already been exposed to enough radiation? Isn't my DNA warped enough," he continued, ignoring Sheppard's muttering about that not being the only thing warped.

"It's for your protection and ours. The UV lights should kill most airborne germs. It shouldn't present a problem in the short term. " Carson nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat like a translator, as Rodney relaxed slightly. There was silence for a few minutes after the medical personnel left.

"I wonder if I can get my laptop," said Dr. McKay, breaking the silence. "I need to keep tabs on what's going on in the lab. Who knows what catastrophes are occurring with Radek in charge and how long it will take me to put things back in order. Sheppard and Beckett exchanged conspiratorial looks- the physics lab probably had a lot less yelling going on right now.

"Rodney, can't you ever forget about work for a few moments?" asked Colonel Sheppard. "I mean we're stuck in the infirmary, with the Wraith flu, and you're worried about the lab. I can think of a few new things to worry about," he added sarcastically.

"Colonel! That's not very reassuring," scolded Carson. "I'm sure we can figure out this flu, plus Dr. Reik informed me the Daedalus has a MD/PhD virologist on board. They should be here in less than 48 hours."

Sheppard started to say something, but Dr. Randall interrupted first. "And that's supposed to be reassuring. Jack-of-all-trades, master of none. We know how you MDs feel about them. Guess what. We don't claim those dual degreers either."

"You know how Caldwell's going to see this situation, don't you Carson?" added the Colonel. "That's hardly reassuring." Silence again filled the small room. Carson secretly hoped Dr. Heightmeyer wasn't going to decide this was a good psychological experiment: small room, stressful situation, strong personalities. Nice combustible mix.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"So, you put cream cheese and cranberry sauce on a turkey sandwich?" Carson awoke to Colonel Sheppard's voice.

"Yep. Sort of gives it a sweet and sour kick to it. Throw some lettuce and some sprouts on it and you're good to go, trust me," answered Dr. Randall earnestly.

"You Californians and your sprouts. The rest of it sounds pretty good though," agreed the Colonel.

"Yeah, especially when the turkey is leftovers from the actual bird, like the day after Thanksgiving."

"Now you're talking. A day dedicated to turkey sandwiches and college football," added the Colonel. Dr. McKay just groaned. "Oh yeah, I forget you Canucks have your own Thanksgiving, just not as cool. Isn't it on the one nice day a year you get?"

"Ha ha ha Colonel. Actually do you think they'll feed us? All your talk of food has gotten me hungry."

"Rodney, is there ever a time when you're not hungry?" asked Sheppard. Rodney was about to retort when Dr. Reik poked her head in.

"I'll have some trays sent in, after we get some updates on your vitals," giving them all looks that said that there would be no arguing. Rumor had it she had put herself through medical school after a stint as a medic in the marines. The woman didn't take squat from anyone. Carson made a mental note to mention her name the next time they wanted a doctor off world.

"So anyone up for a game of prime, not prime?" asked Rodney innocently as they were finishing their chicken soup.

"_When in doubt, serve chicken noodle soup, better than most flu vaccines_," thought Carson. "What's prime, not prime," he asked.

"You don't want to know, Doc," interrupted Colonel Sheppard before Rodney could explain.

"I, for one am feeling much better. This flu must be one of those twenty-four hour varieties. So much for Wraith knowledge," sighed Dr. Randall. She caught sight of a doctor poking his head in. "Any chance of getting released soon? I understand the concern, but I think you overreacted." Colonel Sheppard gave her a look as if to say, "That's my line." The doctor shook his head.

"All of you certainly seem to be over the worst of it. As much as I'd like to say yes, we still don't strong understanding of what we're dealing with. I'm afraid we need to keep you here another day or two, just to be on the safe side." After a moment's consideration, he added, "I think I can at least arrange for showers and clean scrubs."

"Dibs on the first shower," called Colonel Sheppard with an almost child like glee and practically running for the doorway. Kyte was last and was finger-combing her hair when she walked back into the room. The medical staff had scrounged up a few items: a couple decks of cards, some paperbacks, a few magazines, but no laptops. With a start, she realized everything could be easily disposed of. A quick glance at Carson revealed that he'd realized the exact same thing, which meant they were still considered infectious.

Carson noted the odd look on Kyte's face, as she mused over the current situation.  
It was a mixture of concern and was it, a detached clinical analysis? Rodney appeared oblivious to the situation, but Carson could tell by the set of the Colonel's jaw something just didn't add up in his view. Hopefully, Kyte was right, this was a 24-hour bug and the Wraith were lousy at human biology. After all, they hadn't been able to resolve the telepathy problem with Teyla's ancestors. He hoped Kyte was right, They'd be released from the infirmary just before the Daedalus arrived, Caldwell would fume about the situation, but realize there wasn't anything he could do, now the danger was past except file his own reports on how he would have handled the situation.

Half a day later, everyone was either reading, trying to sleep, or playing solitaire. A deafening silence filled the air, and no one was enough of an idiot for now to say anything. If anyone had thought of placing bets on how long Rodney could be silent, they'd all underestimated. They'd tried playing poker for a little while, but Sheppard and McKay had almost come to blows over supposed tells. Rodney had suggested, "prime, not prime" again and ducked a flying book. They were all tired of one another, the room, the waiting, the feeling of captivity. Dr. Heightmeyer might have hypothesized that the four of them would consciously try to avoid one another in the coming days. Even Carson and Kyte, in the beginnings of a relationship, needed some time apart. No one even complained when it was time for yet another round of tests and blood draws. Like little children who know nap-time will be over in five minutes, they didn't want to do anything to delay their anticipated freedom.

The silence was broken two hours later by Dr. Bio's clipped voice resonanting from the adjoining room. "Right now we have Colonel Sheppard and Drs. Beckett, McKay, and Randall in isolation. We're not sure if they're still capable of transmitting the virus."

"I'd like to see the artifact and their workups. Of course I'll need to run my own set of tests. Have you managed to isolate the virus yet?" came a new voice, a strong Southern accent.

"You have the full resources of Atlantis at your disposal," answered Dr. Weir.

"As well as the Daedalus," added Colonel Caldwell.

"Damn," thought Colonel Sheppard, managing to blank his face as the quartet stepped into the room. "Catch a tailwind?" he asked politely, as he slid off the bed and stood at attention.

"Actually we've made a few minor adjustments to the engine; shaves about 12 hours off the time," intoned Colonel Caldwell. There was a small note of triumph in his voice with the early arrival. Dr. McKay just glowered at being stuck in the infirmary and knowing he'd have to simply wait to look at the modifications. From the look on the astrophysicist's face, Carson was willing to bet he had been a kid who shook his presents when they were underneath the tree, tormented by the anticipation. Kyte also appeared upset; there was a shock of recognition on her face as she stared at the new doctor, who hadn't noticed her yet.

"Dr. Beckett? I'm Dr. Jared Mason, the MD/PhD virologist. I'm impressed with the retrovirus you designed. I know it had its shortcomings, but I'm sure they can be resolved," spoke the source of the Southern voice. Carson studied him briefly. Blond, good looking, if he were an actor playing a doctor, he'd be cast as the earnest intern, the one determined to make a difference, but Carson thought he detected something unsettling in his eyes. His gaze traveled over to Dr. Randall. "Katydid?" he queried, reverting to the nickname he used to tease her with years ago. "Of all the infirmaries in all the world…"

Dr. Randall stared back. The last time she'd seen him, she'd thrown a glass of wine in his face and stomped out of the fanciest restaurant she'd ever been in.

"You two know each other?" asked Dr. Weir, sensing the sudden rise in tension.

"Yes, Dr. Mason and I were together in school." Dr. Randall stumbled over the last word.

"Actually, I'm surprised you're not working on this virus, even if you are a patient," commented Dr. Mason. He added for the benefit of everyone in the room, "In grad school she was one of the best in virology. I'm surprised you're not at the CDC, heading up some department."

"I switched fields. I'm a botanist," she said simply.

"Why? Just because of what happened? I know you have your standards, but to turn your back on your true talents is just crazy."

"I didn't have a choice, I didn't turn my back. I found everyone else had turned theirs."

"You could have talked to me, I could have helped."

"You mean used your daddy's money? I don't think your daddy's money would have helped, unless he was willing to endow buildings. Not after what Dr. Grotzky said." Seeing his puzzled look, she added, "You never heard." He shook his head. "Never mind." Dr. Randall turned away. "Let the past stay buried." Dr. Mason opened his mouth to protest, then looked at the riveted faces, watching the uneasy reunion.

"We can talk later," he finished, determined to have the last word.

A/N: Don't worry, more action, less dialogue in the coming chapters. I have nothing against Canadians (I think they have better beer than us – actually that's probably most of the world) or the South. I should add that one of my undergrad students is a medic in the marine corp. Some of her students, well …


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As soon as Dr. Mason was out of earshot, Dr. McKay hissed, "So you know that Ken doll of a doctor? Great. You two certainly don't look too happy with this little reunion."

"We were in the same lab for a little while in grad school, that's all. He was two years ahead of me," snapped Dr. Randall. Carson couldn't help but notice how she balled the blanket in her fists and her tone was harsher than it should have been. There was a history between them, but she wasn't going to be sharing.

Well, whoever he is, hopefully he'll run all his tests and release us soon. Right now, I think this Wraith virus is going to kill us with boredom," sighed Colonel Sheppard. He wasn't happy that Caldwell in Dr Weir's office without him present. All he wanted to do was get out of there, and he was pretty much willing to do anything. Under ordinary circumstances he would have simply left and let Beckett chew him out later, and with the doctor here as a patient, it would have been even easier. However, with the Wraith involved and after considering the possible consequences of a city-wide outbreak, he'd stay put, just this once.

Dr. Mason returned in a few minutes with a small tray. "I'm going to collect some blood samples and double-check vitals. If everything looks ok, you'll be free to go." There was soft cheering. "Katydid, you know the drill," he said, walking over to Dr. Randall. She cocked her head at him and he stabbed her earlobe with a lancet, then quickly pipeted the emerging drops of blood with a capillary tube and smeared them on a labeled slide. As he was doing this, Dr. McKay spoke up.

"So you were in school with Dr. Randall? Any good stories to tell?" Dr. Randall glared at Rodney, then at Dr. Mason. Dr. Mason seemed to pause for a moment as he walked over to Colonel Sheppard's bed and took the proffered thumb.

"Don't get her mad. Oh and don't play pool with her unless you like losing money. Once the administrative office screwed up her financial aid, said she was short $1200 and needed it the next day. I offered to loan her the money, but she went into the city and hustled it that night," he looked at Dr. Randall unblinking. She blushed and shrugged. "It's all physics and angles." Dr. Mason finished his tests. I'll check your bloodwork and let you know what you find."

The four were waiting impatiently for the verdicts. Dr. Randall was leaning against a wall and Sheppard was pacing the length of the small room. You were in Dr. Grotzky's lab with Mason?" asked Beckett. "You must have been there when he left the university suddenly. What happened?" He didn't notice her pained look as he was suddenly overtaken by a fit of coughing. "There's blood, too much blood," he thought wearily. "I need," he tried to determine what he needed as the darkness claimed him. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay watched helplessly as red suddenly splattered across white sheets. "Carson will know what to do," thought Sheppard for a moment, before the absurdity of the situation hit him. As he turned to see where Dr. Randall was, a sudden blinding bright pain seared across his temples. His eyes met hers – the pain on her face wasn't from her recollections, at least not now. She was in the same situation as he was and was slumped on the floor, like someone's discarded doll. He struggled to get up and go to her, when strong hands pushed him back, found himself lying flat on the bed. Voices swam around him. Suddenly the room was filled with people and equipment, more than anyone could have expected, the sudden tension electric in the air.

"What the hell, they were fine a minute ago."

"Dr. Beckett was coughing up blood, I'm having trouble finding a pulse."

"Check Dr. McKay."

"Dr. Randall's slumped on the floor, I can't get a response."

"Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Randall are both burning up. I need some cooling blankets and chilled saline."

Coldness. Everything was cold from the alcohol before the needle pinch, to the heart monitor leads, to the cocoon he suddenly found himself in. He tried to push it all away. The blackness was warmth and peace, away from this madness. He wanted to push it all aside, follow the spinning blackness. "Stay with us Colonel," he remembered someone shouting before he decided to follow Alice down that rabbit hole.

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Several frightening hours later, Dr. McKay was making small talk with Dr. Weir, who had dragged a chair in from the main room of the infirmary and listening to the bleating of various monitors. The various doctors had stabilized Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett and Dr. Randall, but from what he could see, they'd won the battle, but were losing the war. He himself had a rising fever and was generally feeling miserable, but they kept reassuring him the situation was under control. He wondered how much truth there was to that statement. An increase in bleating from one of the monitors alerted him and medical staff in the next room that someone was waking up.

"Dr. Beckett, can you hear me?" asked his 2IC, checking his vitals.

"What?" rasped Carson, trying to take in the monitors, the IV, and the tightness in his chest.

"You, the Colonel, and Dr. Randall all seemed to suffer a severe recurrence of the flu. Dr. McKay is stricken as well, but his case isn't as extreme, for now.

"We'll get to the bottom of this," reassured Dr. Weir, squeezing his shoulder, but he could see the wariness in her eyes.

A short while later, Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Randall were taking tentative steps back into consciousness. After medical had taken their vitals, a small crowd gathered, Caldwell among them, a look of unease replacing his usual "all-business" look.

"Ok, we have some good news and some bad news," began Dr. Biro.

"First, we have determined that the virus is limited to only those individuals with the ATA gene. It can't become airborne, but it can be transmitted by contact," interrupted Dr. Mason. There was almost a cheerful note in his voice. "The virus appeared to contain two components, and this is right out of your playbook, Dr. Randall, but the first was a mild flu-like illness. Once the afflicted thought they'd recovered, they would still be capable of infecting others, before the becoming ill the second time. Nice way to infect those you missed the first time. "

"So what's the good news?" demanded Dr. McKay, more than a little agitated.

"That was the good news. The bad news is that we really don't know what we're up against, such as the virulence, or the ability of this virus to mutate. We're stabbing in the dark right now. We do know the virus appears to attack both the nervous and the pulmonary system. We could be looking at encephalitis and/or respiratory problems. I don't know if we can treat this or how much time we have." There was an uncomfortable silence, as the implications sunk in to all those present.

"We'll find something. Dismissed people," Caldwell's baritone finally shattered the silence. People cast worried glances at the bed's occupants, before leaving.

"So what was that comment about a playbook?'" demanded Dr. McKay, once everyone but Dr. Mason and Dr. Weir had left the room.

"We used to have a contest, once every couple weeks in the lab. Design the worst virus you could think of. Kyte usually won," answered Dr. Mason.

"Just name something?" asked Dr. Weir looking at the two uneasily.

"No that'd be too simple. You had to design or at least demonstrate how you'd create a superbug. Our advisor was a Soviet cold-war era biologist, Nothing was off-limits. We were like kids in a candy store," continued Dr. Mason.

"That's a very morbid candy store," commented Carson quietly, trying to recollect what he'd heard about the lab. He knew that there was some brilliant research, and a sudden, private scandal, and a fall from grace. Colonel Sheppard looked troubled at the thought of what the two of them could have developed.

"We were on the verge of some incredible breakthroughs. Then Dr. Randall develops what she calls a conscience," he glared at the scientist.

"She stared back at him, oblivious for a moment to the audience. "I did what I had to do. You told me you and Ben supported my decision, then left me standing alone. Is that how you deal with a crisis? Find someone's skirts to hide under?"

"You could have talked to Leon. You didn't have to do what you did."

'I did. He laughed, told me I was naïve. Didn't believe I'd have the stomach to confront him. The when I did, he destroyed my reputation."

'He blacklisted you?" Dr. Mason's tone took on a shocked note.

'Yes. End of story." The stare she gave him and those listening conveyed both pride and pain. She'd done what she thought was right, and had paid a terrible price, the victory a bitter taste. Dr. Mason abruptly left the room.

"What was all that?" asked Dr. McKay, puzzled at the thread of the conversation.

"So you were the one," muttered Carson thoughtfully. Dr. Randall nodded.

"My advisor wanted to prove how easy it was to get a hold of certain materials and build a biological weapon. He planned to release it across campus. Nobody'd get hurt he said. It violated everything I knew, I took my case to the school authorities. I thought I was doing the right thing, others didn't see it that way," she said softly, before turning to stare at the wall.

"You did the right thing," started Dr. Weir walking over, "There are standards for responsible science and research, although those lines get blurry sometimes," she admitted thinking of the various events in the past year. Carson exchanged guilty looks with Colonel Sheppard, and Rodney picked a point on the floor to stare at.

The mood in the room for the next day was uneasy for a number of reasons. Nobody was quite sure how to address Dr. Randall's admissions and the emotions that accompanied them. In addition, the 'Wraith flu,' as it was now officially named, was certainly worse this time around. Headaches, fevers, chills, as well as congestion were par for the course, and everyone, with the exception of Rodney for now, was occasionally coughing up blood. It was getting harder to breathe and everyone was exhausted. Carson was more than a little nervous. The drugs that his co-workers were adding to the IVs were having limited effects and were putting pressure on their other organ systems. Dr. Mason and Dr. Biro appeared stumped.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dr. Weir buried her hands in her face as she waited for yet another pot of coffee to finish perking. She wished she could simply walk out on the balcony with a cup and stare out at the ocean for a few hours, and forget all that was happening, but that simply wasn't possible. Four of her people were infected, and there were now two additional cases – Dr. Miko Kusanagi and a Captain Richards. Medical was still trying to track down the means of infection, but both had the ATA gene. Briefly she envied Caldwell's stony demeanor, but damnit, she wasn't military. These were her people, and a very insidious attack had been launched against them and her city. She wanted to rage, to throw things and she'd do everything in her power to find some answers, because she sure as hell wasn't going to accept the any possible outcome except a cure for this virus.

Despite the possible risks, she decided to visit the infirmary again, if she was having trouble staying in her office, she knew four individuals, soon to be increased by two, who were probably climbing the walls. At least she hoped they were. Out in the hallway, she ran into Dr. Brown and Teyla. "Katie, Teyla, I take it you are headed towards the infirmary/"

A moment of indecision seemed to cross the botanist's face, before she nodded along with Teyla. "I'm hoping that Rodney's doing ok. He's not always easy to get along with, and I'm sure this has made him and everyone else just a little irritable."

"That may be the understatement of the year," conceded Dr. Weir with a small smile. "I've heard Carson's a horrible patient though, you know the old cliché. I'm sure he's demanding everyone's charts, because what could worse? Being a doctor and not being able to help?"

"Yes and Rodney's probably mad at himself for infecting everyone and at Carson for not 'finding a trick in his bag of voodoo' as he calls it. He called Carson's solution to the Iratus bug some 'nifty slight of hand,'" added Katie.

Dr. Weir picked up the thread, "Colonel Sheppard I'm sure has seen the ravages of chemical and biological warfare. I think he'd rather die on his feet facing the enemy, than in this way, but we can't think like that," she shook her head, scolding herself. "I'm sure he and Dr. Randall would like to run from it all if they could."

The visitors trailed in, despite the risks. Dr. Kusanagi and Capt. Richards were being monitored in a nearby room. "Come to pay your last respects, before things get messy," snapped Rodney, his voice although raspy, carried a deeper bite than usual. Dr. Weir and Dr. Katie Brown shuddered at his tone. They'd come to offer support and optimism, which seemed to quickly evaporate like rain in the desert.

"We'll figure out something, don't worry," said Elizabeth finally, braver words than she'd felt. "We checked out the site where the artifact was recovered for any additional clues, but there was nothing, and I'm afraid the text was just gibberish. We know that the artifact was planted after the city was sunk, so obviously there's nothing in the database."

"And that's supposed to be comforting?" spat back McKay. Dr. Brown walked over to his bed and perched on the edge.

"I think it means the Wraith were desperate. They were afraid if the Ancients came back, they'd have the means to destroy them. So they created this virus," said Dr. Brown softly, after a moment of consideration. "Wouldn't you agree Colonel?" she finished, looking at Sheppard.

"It is a cowardly thing, not to attack your enemy directly," agreed Teyla from the doorway. "But they also make you see things that are not there. They have always used trickery. This is not new to them."

"Cowardly, but effective," added Dr. Randall. "Why sacrifice soldiers, when science can effortlessly destroy a city?" Rodney muttered something under his breath. She glared at him. "Don't go self-righteous on me. Like an atomic bomb isn't better?" She took his silence as an affirmative, both suddenly too tired and coughing too much to argue the point further. Small conversations went on. Teyla and Dr. Weir were talking to Colonel Sheppard, occasionally addressing some remark to Rodney and Katie. Carson pestered Dr. Biro and a few other doctors who trailed in for progress reports. He looked over at Dr. Randall; she was deep in conversation with Dr. Mason. Carson frowned, Dr. Mason was gesturing and seemed trying to convince her of something, she was nodding yes, reluctantly. Slowly people drifted out and vitals were again checked, medications administered.

"So your Ken doll come up with anything new? Or this all just some fascinating experiment to him," snarled Rodney to Kyte, slowly reviving.

"Don't call him that. He's taking it all very personally. We did use to work together, remember. He's a very smart guy."

"Yeah, a virologist with the alphabet after his name.

"I was headed down that path, too, Maybe not the MD part. I don't know why he did that bit. Of course this is coming from someone who built a bomb for a science project. Admit it, Rodney, you like the power."

"Power?"

You have all this power concentrated before you. Little bit God-like, you know. Unleash the most destructive of forces at will. Almost intoxicating at times."

"The quote, 'I have become Death, Destroyer of worlds' means nothing to you?"

"Funny you should mention that," she began, before Colonel Sheppard brought the argument to a halt, interrupting the two with a bout of coughing.

"Can't clear my lungs," he panted as several doctors rushed into the room. Carson was on the edge of his bed, observing the situation. The virus was suppressing pulmonary function, allowing fluid to build up and making it difficult to breathe. Carson knew the drugs they were administering, they'd help in the short term, but could put pressure on the liver and kidneys. "Any other solutions, Doc?" whispered Sheppard, seeing the look of apprehension on the Scotsman's face.

"I don't think you want to deal with large-bore needles right now," he noticed Sheppard flinch. Obviously he wasn't in that much distress, or he hid it well. "There are a few other drugs, but they also have some serious side effects, " he added. Despite it all, he was still a doctor. He was lost in the thought of next steps and didn't notice the silent exchange between Dr. Randall and Dr. Mason in the doorway, but Dr. McKay did and scowled as sleep pulled him into his welcoming embrace.

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"I've got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases," sang Dr. Randall softly as Colonel Sheppard awoke. She didn't look up from the laptop until she heard another voice joining hers.

"Wouldn't mind being there right now." he sighed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," she smiled slightly at his hair, sticking up more than usual. "My old advisor liked every song you could classify as 'bad.' That and Dr. Mason's taste isn't much better." She looked down at her laptop. 'Dr. Biro and Dr. Mason have the structure of this virus partially characterized, I'm trying to figure out how it works." Seeing Rodney suddenly awake she added, "That's what I do. You have your Ancient devices, I happen to like putting together and taking apart complex molecular systems." She shrugged. "Despite what I said earlier about designing superbugs, we were trying to do some good. Maybe we were a little undisciplined, but," she turned back to her computer. "I figured out I might as well offer my services. I'm a little rusty, but hell, what have I got to lose?" She allowed herself a weak smile, at her attempt at morbid humor, focusing again on her computer when there was no response. Finally she held the laptop out to Carson in frustration, "Does any of this make sense?"

Carson looked at the figure on the screen, which resembled a spiky pollen grain. He shook his head slowly, trying to disentangle the cobwebs surrounding his brain. "Looks familiar, but I can't place it." He waited a moment before handing it back. "You said you designed viruses. How?"

"Tried to combine things like Ebola with smallpox."

"Lovely," muttered Rodney. "Tinkertoys for biologists."

"Actually, that's not a bad analogy and I'll bet that's what the Wraith did. They had to work with human diseases, right?" She paused for a moment, coughing violently. Dr. Mason instantly appeared at her side, emptying the contents of a syringe into her IV. "Talk to Teyla. See if she can recall any major sicknesses that swept through the populations here. Cross-reference whatever further structural data you get from this virus with anything from earth," she said after a moment, suddenly energetic. A little too energetically, in Dr. McKay's opinion. There was an odd look in her eyes he didn't like.

TBC

A/N: Ok, so I'm going to ask for some reviews and help here. I think my cat has been keeping the plot bunnies away – this story keeps turning philosophical. Maybe if I set a plate of carrots out for the bunnies and some turkey leftovers for the cat.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

A/N: Small drug reference warning. I don't condone drug use, but this (if you understand it, weird bio humor) was a joke in an earlier lab. Anyone remember VH-1's Pop-up Video?

"Carson, wake-up! I think the Ken doll is trying to put the moves on your girlfriend," hissed Rodney, staring at Dr. Randall working on a laptop propped up on her knees. Several cans of Red Bull and various energy bars were stacked on a nearby table.

"S'okay," murmured Dr. Beckett groggily.

"Great, just great," muttered Rodney to himself. Dr. Mason rubbed him the wrong way, but there was more to it than that. Though he'd never publicly admit it, Dr. McKay looked out for the scientists under his supervision. Some he actually cared for, Dr. Randall being one of them. She seemed to 'get him' and she seemed to know just how to annoy Kavanaugh, while appearing completely innocent. She wasn't quite in same category – yet- as Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett, though. Those two had recently spent more time sleeping than awake, a fact that alarmed him, although the infirmary staff tried to reassure him, that for the two, fighting the virus was simply very draining for them. Dr. Mason had appeared to take over Kyte's care, frequently discussing various points with her. She appeared feverish, but bright-eyed and animated. Rodney suspected it had something to do with the drugs he kept spiking her IV with, and though he wasn't a medical doctor, something about that made him very uncomfortable. He tried to tell himself that they were probably just stimulants, but that still gnawed at him for some reason.

"What?" she snapped at him, briefly meeting his eyes, when she felt him staring. "Can't you see I'm busy?" she looked back down at the laptop.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok, you've been going at this pretty intently," he responded, almost apologetically.

"Well, I've got a killer headache, partly from this damn virus and the drugs keeping me breathing, and partly from trying to figure this friggin' thing out," she shot back harshly.

"I'm sure Dr. Mason and Dr. Biro and the rest of the research teams are working hard as well."

"They're amateurs. Leave this up to them, and we're all dead. I have to hand it to the Wraith, they designed one insidious virus, it's what I would have done." She noticed him shudder slightly. "Face it, McKay. Biologists are so much scarier than physicists now."

"Yeah right," he snarked back, having the odd feeling this is what he sounded like, when he got defensive.

"Admit it, society doesn't trust us. We're getting better at extending life and coming very close to creating it. Stem cells, cloning, and evolution. Just yell those words in a crowded room and see how people react. Not to mention government agencies and religious groups. We're way scarier."

"We still have the Big Bang theory."

"Which the Catholic Church accepts," shot back Dr. Randall.

Colonel Sheppard, interrupted the two. Normally he would have enjoyed a good 'geek fight,' but not now. "You're not helping the headache," he said, trying to massage his temples.

'Sorry, sir," apologized Dr. Randall, looking embarrassed, her attitude doing a complete 180. Rodney realized that she was definitely under the influence of something and a certain someone, which Carson, if he were in charge would not be too happy about. He wondered what Dr. Mason had said to her, how reluctant she had been to participate in this little endeavor, given her previous outburst. No matter. What he was giving her couldn't be good for her in their present condition, despite the attempts from both them to camouflage the effects. She looked up when Dr. Mason entered the room. "I'm struggling with this," she said.

'You can do it. You were the best, are still the best. Grotsky was nuts, should never have done what he did to you."

"No, I was wrong. I should have trusted him. I handled the whole situation badly, I should never have gone to the school officials. You were right that night I stormed out of the restaurant."

"I never did get the wine out of that shirt, but I was more hurt that you had to pick a particularly good Pinot Noir to waste." He paused for a moment. "When this is all over, maybe I can put in a good word for you, get you transferred back to virology. It'll be like old times."

"Yes," she said wistfully. "By the way, did Ben ever get his little side project going? The one where he was trying to get _Acidophilus_ to produce THC?"

"No, he tried, but decided it entailed too complex a pathway," answered Dr. Mason with a small grin. "Viruses are just simpler, more elegant.

"Speaking of simplicity, this thing isn't simple. It looks like the Wraith modified several animal flu viruses, stuff that could leap species, you know like the avian or swine varieties back on earth. I just need to figure out which receptors on it are keyed for the ATA sequences." Despite her best efforts, she yawned.

"Well, rest now, I'll be back in a few hours," soothed Dr. Mason, noticing the fatigue setting in and taking note of a few other vitals.

"Well, ain't he just the bees' knees," asked Rodney in his best Southern drawl.

"Yeah, and you're feeling as useful as a box of hair," muttered Dr. Randall, trying to find a comfortable position.

"What sweet nothings has he been whispering in your ear? You've certainly had a rapid change of heart," demanded McKay.

"You know Superman is the only superhero who has to limit himself and become a mere mortal. You ever think how tiring that must be?"

Rodney was silent for a moment and was about to counter when he realized she was asleep. Something still didn't sit well with him. Time to call in a few favors. He scrawled out a note and handed it to the next person who came in to check on everyone. The doctor stared at the note dubiously. "Just irradiate it or whatever you have to do, just deliver it to Lt. Cadman."

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Lt. Cadman picked up her tray in the mess hall and looked around the mess hall, until she spotted Dr. Mason. Yes, Rodney's description of a Ken doll was accurate, he was just a little too bland good-looking. "Is this seat taken?" she asked as she placed her tray down across from his. She was dressed in civilian clothing –jeans and a tank top- and his eyes gave her a quick appraisal, before he nodded. "_Jerk_," she thought, sitting down. "I'm Laura. You must be Dr. Mason," she said cheerfully, then noticed his alarm at her recognition, "Don't worry, it's a small place. News travels fast," she shrugged. "I heard you got here in the nick of time," she added, trying to flatter him. It worked, she could almost see him puff out his chest. He smiled at her.

"Just doing my job, but I guess you could say you've got the best. The military could use more thinkers like me, a brain to go with the brawn. I think though, that brilliance will eventually replace the usse of brute force." He didn't notice Cadman's dirty looks. "Actually, I'm glad Kyte's here. I know she wasn't on the crew roster, but Dr. Weir filled me in on the unusual circumstances of her presence. She's been through a lot. Glad she finally has a familiar face."

"You know her?" asked Laura, playing dumb. "_From what Rodney said, she didn't really want to see him, at least initially_," she thought.

Dr. Mason seemed to warm to her, a storyteller who now had an audience. "I met her when she was finishing up college. She was in a microbiology lab section I was TAing. She was leaps and bounds ahead of everyone, a natural. Mozart to everyone else's Salieri. There was a lot of slack in her rope. I felt it was my responsibility to channel her talent. I helped recruit her for the lab. We had a small difference of opinion, but she's matured, sees the error of her ways," he explained.

"_Probably clouded her judgment, according to Rodney_," thought Lt. Cadman. "Hello, Dr. Weir," she greeted the expeditionary leader.

"Dr. Mason, Laura," spoke a worried-looking Dr. Weir, catching the silent message telegraphed by Cadman. "How are things, Dr. Mason?"

"We're racing against time, this virus is quite persistent. I'm confident, however, we'll find a solution. Once that's done, I think there exists a good possibility we could reverse engineer the virus, make it a weapon against the Wraith," he finished excitedly.

"That could be … useful." Dr. Weir searched for the right word. "However, I'm more concerned with getting my people healthy, first, and preventing any subsequent outbreaks."

"I understand, Dr. Weir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be getting back to the infirmary." Dr. Mason stood up. "Nice to meet you, Laura," he added, ever the gentleman.

"What was that about," asked Dr. Weir curiously, after Dr. Mason left.

"Rodney's worried. Doesn't trust they guy completely." She noticed the skeptical look on Dr. Weir's face. I know, but I know how Rodney's mind works, quite literally, and I have to agree. This guy has an ego and something to prove. He's more than a little possessive and I don't like his 'Did I leave my boots under your bed,' attitude," finished Laura.

"I didn't know he knew Dr. Randall before he came here, but their lab did have problems, probably blames her for betraying him and the lab. Still, he came highly recommended, both from academic and military sources. Curiously, there was no mention of any of the incident in Dr. Randall's files and she switched fields of study. Given out current circumstances, I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt."

You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am. I just hope Rodney's wrong." Both women knew the odds of that.

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Rodney stared at Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett, both of whom were awake, but suffering the full force of the virus, despite drugs and oxygen. He hated seeing them like this unwilling patients, trying to fight off efforts to help as well as the disease. If the situation wasn't quite so serious he might have laughed at the look on Carson's face, when someone suggested the nasal cannula. Colonel Sheppard, having been logged more time in the infirmary than most, still seemed more willing to fight a Wraith unarmed. People were starting use phrases like _last ditch effort_, _last resort_ and a few other scarier ones. He'd heard that Capt. Richards and Dr. Kusanagi had both entered the second phase of the disease. Miko was in pretty bad shape, and he briefly felt bad for how critical he had been of her. "_Death bed confessions_," he thought morbidly. He felt sick, certainly, but he was far better shape than Miko, Sheppard, or Beckett. The same he heard, could be said of Capt. Richards, sick, but not knocking on death's door. He left Dr. Randall with her chemically manipulated condition out of the equation. "Why aren't Capt. Richards and I as sick," he suddenly demanded. He looked at Dr. Randall, she was busy with her laptop. He certainly hoped she wasn't playing Solitaire. Carson looked at him steadily for a moment. He could almost see the Scotsman willing the neurons to fire.

"Gene therapy," he croaked.

"That's it! The Wraith used the ATA sequence and the DNA sequences surrounding it to trigger the virus. With the gene therapy, the ATA gene randomly inserts, so the virus provokes a weaker response, since the surrounding code is missing. I think I can figure out a way to disable and confuse the virus," Dr. Randall looked at Carson, then at Rodney, an impish grin spreading across her face. "Carson, I could kiss you, unless Rodney's going to fight me for that privilege."

TBC

A/N: Thanks to Dr. Dredd, drufan, ddoskocil, and others who left advice. Don't worry this isn't over yet. The superman line is from a scene in _Kill Bill Vol.2._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone. Flah7, I always knew Carson was secretly a brawler, glad someone else thinks along those lines.

"So it's all a question of where the ATA sequence is?" asked Colonel Sheppard dubiously, before a bout of coughing overtook him. He waved off the medic trying to adjust his oxygen.

"Makes perfect sense to me," nodded Carson weakly. He knew he could launch into a lecture regarding the intricacies of gene insertion, but knew from previous experience that there would be rolling eyes from several people thirty seconds into the explanation. "Unfortunately for you Rodney, I do not have any magic spells in my book for this situation," he added dryly. "I'm afraid you'll have to trust some other purveyor of voodoo."

"Guys, I can do this. I just need a little time and a few more of these," Dr. Randall interrupted with an imperious tone, as she popped the top on another caffeine drink and looked at Dr. Mason. He smiled at her, the prodigal daughter had returned. Rodney scowled slightly. He had received Lt. Cadman's report and although he trusted Kyte's talents, there was still something that made him uneasy. He tried to push nervousness aside, but paranoia was an old friend, and knew all the tricks. Dr. Randall was silent for the most part, occasionally asking questions of Dr. Mason and Dr. Biro as they trailed in every so often. Rodney hated to admit it, but she seemed almost _happy_, she had the lid of the puzzle box plus all four corners put together, it was simply a matter of finding the few remaining pieces. Of course one does not criticize someone who is actively trying to save your life.

"_She must have been something, in a former life_," he thought. Still despite her small smile, he thought he could see something else in her eyes, besides the strain of the current situation he couldn't quite identify.

"I think I got it," she spoke softly, the exhaustion in her voice betraying the glee across her face. _Finished the puzzle – all 10,000 pieces_.

"You think?" snapped Rodney a little more harshly than he intended, although this was his life on the line, and this, in his book was definitely sort of spell complete with chicken bones.

Dr. Randall's eyes narrowed. "I know," she corrected. "Get this formulation to biochemistry. It's a little crude, but should do the trick."

"What's a little crude," asked Rodney, paranoia shoving aside skepticism.

"Close enough for government standards," she shot back.

"Which government? U.S. or Canadian?"

Kyte looked for a moment like she wanted to strangle him, but simply laughed. "And if I said French?" She ducked three weakly thrown pillows. "Seriously, though, I don't think any of us are going to be any fun for a little while, but it beats the alternative." She noticed Sheppard giving her a reassuring smile. "_Just another page in his book_," she thought. Carson was probably thinking the same thing. "_I wonder how many frequent flier points this is worth_," she chuckled silently before making a couple of final keystrokes and handing the laptop to Dr. Mason. There was the sound of cheering from the other room.

Dr. Biro walked into the room a couple hours later. Despite the fact that she was a pathologist, Rodney couldn't help feeling glad it was she and not Dr. Mason that carried several syringes. Carson noted that she seemed relieved that she was greeted with quiet appreciation; she was of course more comfortable with the dead. Who knows what might have happened had they all stood up and cheered, if they'd had the strength. She simply walked around to each of them and emptied the contents of a syringe into each of their IV ports, then left the room to apparently let them rest.

Sleep, however, did not come. The effects of the treatment were nearly immediate and certainly far from painless. "What the hell did you put in that?" groaned Rodney, then wished he could take the words back, when he saw Dr. Randall and Colonel Sheppard were in much worse pain.

"Think of it as chemical pliers that are pulling the virus from the receptor sites. It was the simplest solution, not necessarily the most elegant," shrugged Kyte as she winced slightly. "The good thing is, I was also able to start designing a vaccine. If the Wraith left any other 'artifacts,' that won't be a problem."

"That's great. Do you think that you'll be able to reverse-engineer the virus into some sort of weapon?" asked Carson. Kyte started to say something, then looked away and fiddled with a lead for one of the monitors.

"It would be nice to have another option against the Wraith," added Colonel Sheppard. "A little payback." Kyte looked torn, and tried to say something again, but before she could get the words out, she fell back against the pillows and the monitors started beeping wildly.

"What the hell is going on in here," asked Carson's 2IC, rushing into the room. He checked Kyte's vitals, then checked and double-checked her medical chart. "This makes no sense," he muttered over the cacophony of the monitors as he eyed the scene playing out before him.

"Check with Dr. Mason. I think he was giving her something," suggested Rodney. Carson could only watch with worry and frustration, unable to participate.

"There's nothing here in her chart…" started the doctor. "Damn, he must have been giving her something to keep awake, focused, ignoring what was really going on. Hopefully, he kept a separate chart." He stormed out, muttering choice words under his breath.

In spite of himself, Rodney smiled at Carson. "I hate to admit it, Carson, but sometimes I think you teach them well." Carson gave him a wry smile.

A short time later, much to everyone's relief, Dr. Randall's condition was stabilized and she was sleeping under the influence of a heavy sedative. "Dr. Mason was kept giving her stimulants, which was quite inappropriate under the circumstances. Luckily, it was fairly short-term, although he kept upping the dosage. If this had gone another day or two, well, it'd be an entirely different story. She's lucky she was able to focus as well as she did, although I guess she was a little mercurial personality-wise. Most people would have been bouncing off the walls, for lack of a better description. The ordeal put a great deal of stress on heart and lungs, not to mention the chemical imbalance her system is trying to correct, in addition to battling the virus. We'll keep her sedated for a day or so, and she'll need to take it easy for a little while. It may seem the other extreme, but it will work." Carson nodded his approval at his 2IC's decision.

"I'm also guessing that coming off the drugs would not be a pleasant experience," added Carson. His 2IC nodded.

"She'll sleep through most, but not all of it, and she'll require close monitoring in the next twenty-four hours to make sure " he explained.

"If we survive this, I'll make her coffee everyday for a week," interrupted Rodney.

"If we live, I'll bring her breakfast in bed for a month," one-upped Colonel Sheppard. "Oops, that may be your domain, Carson," he added apologetically. Carson frowned, half-listening to the Colonel while he watched his team attach additional tubes and wires to the sleeping figure. There were one or two she wasn't going to be too happy about.

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A day later Carson could almost understand Colonel Sheppard's previous escape attempts from the infirmary. Even he wanted a few days away from the place, and this was his place of work. Capt. Richards and Dr. Kusanagi, not quite as ill to begin with, had already been released, although not cleared yet for duty. Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, and himself had been practically at each other's throats, hoping to prove themselves annoying enough to be released to their quarters. Carson realized with a start, he'd been on the receiving end of this a few times, and made a mental note to pay a little more attention the next time one of the two landed in the infirmary.

Finally he had taken the initiative and declared that they'd recuperate much better in their own quarters. He had changed out of scrubs, making an additional note to requisition some other color, and had returned, with the intent of catching up on paperwork. Instead he found himself staring at Dr. Randall. He didn't like seeing Kyte like this, small and helpless. He recalled the first time he'd seen her, tearing through the gate, muddy feet skidding across the floor, a determined look in her eye as she had outrun several Wraith, intent on proving herself and to protect those she had made an instantaneous decision to trust. He briefly wondered what had transpired with Dr. Mason, or if she had simply acted without thinking. There certainly enough that to go around.

"She really cares about everyone here. Feels grateful even," a Southern voice interrupted his thoughts. Carson turned to see Dr. Mason standing next to him. "She's always been kinked like that, loyal to her principles, felt she has a duty to protect, all part of some ancient code. A galloglass. Took a little more effort than I expected to convince to go through with this, but once I pointed out whose lives were on the line," he looked at Carson steadily. She would have died to save you."

A million thoughts raced through Carson's mind. "You twisted her sense of loyalty," he finally sputtered.

Dr. Mason nodded smugly. "As I told a few people, she was good, but she'd been thrown off the horse. Just needed to push the right buttons," he started to explain before a fist to the jaw cut him off.

"I was going to do that," protested Rodney behind him, "but nice shot," he added as Carson rubbed his hand and stared at the figure on the floor. His 2IC entered the room and surveyed the scene.

"We'd better look at that," he commented respectfully, taking his superior's hand to check for broken bones. "Too bad you didn't do a little more damage, a few people could use practice with starting IVs and suturing."

Carson reviewed paperwork and nursed his hand the rest of the day. He had to admit, he'd never been so happy to sleep in his own bed, although there was another he wouldn't be adverse to. When he entered the infirmary the following morning to minor cheers, he was heartened to hear Kyte was sleeping on her own and should wake up shortly, which she did. "How are you feeling," he asked, checking her reflexes as she squinted against the pen light in her eyes.

"Nothing a shower and coffee wouldn't fix. What idiot decided blinding a semi-conscious patient was a good SOP? Oh and tell me that someone's going to remove a few of these things," she gestured, "or I'll do it myself and it won't be pretty."

"Yes," Carson sighed to himself, she was heading back towards normal. That, and she'd picked up a few lines from the Colonel.

A little while later, Kyte was sitting up in bed, having compromised on a clean set of scrubs and removal of everything but the IV, left in to 'rebalance her electrolytes,' which she hadn't fought. Dr. Weir and Colonel Caldwell poked their heads in.

"Everyone owes you great debt," started Dr. Weir, "I heard you may be able to design a vaccine against something like this happening again."

"We'll at least be able to treat another occurrence much more quickly if there's been any variations in the viral template," nodded Dr. Randall.

"Do you think you'll be able to reverse engineer the virus to fight the Wraith," added Colonel Caldwell. "They had to be able to handle the virus without infecting themselves, right?"

Kyte seemed to pause for a moment before answering. "No."

"Actually, I recovered that file from your laptop," interrupted Dr. Mason, giving a nervous glance in Carson's direction. "Let me correct myself. I had that Czech guy do it." Caldwell stared at Dr. Randall with a look that said she'd better have a good explanation, or she'd be spending some quality time in the brig. Like several decades. Dr. Mason continued on. "I took the model you constructed and added the triggering sequences that I found in the database," he handed her the laptop, eager for approval.

Dr. Randall stared at the diagram for a moment. Her face went white and she crushed the glass in her hand, embedding small plastic shards in her palm. "Did you start synthesizing this?"

Dr. Mason nodded, suddenly scared. "I wanted to see if it was stable, spilled a little when I took it out, when I let the reaction run too long."

"Pinky, you idiot," she hissed before swearing in Gaelic. Carson winced. She knew a few words he didn't, and he guessed her outburst wasn't from the pain. "Find Colonel Sheppard and Teyla, hopefully they're ok, this didn't work."

"What's going on," demanded Dr. Weir.

"Ken doll here, resurrected and synthesized the reverse-engineered virus I designed, when I was trying to find a cure. Multi-tasking. Works the same way as what infected those with the ATA gene, seeking out specific sequences of DNA as a signal. I deleted the file because there was a fatal flaw or two that we don't have the data to solve.

"Fatal flaws," repeated Carson, not quite following the thread of the conversation, but growing alarmed.

"The only sequenced Wraith or Wraith-like DNA we have is from Teyla and the markers from the Iratus bug," explained Kyte.

"Which means the Colonel and Teyla could be infected," interrupted Carson.

"Yes," nodded Kyte, "and there's more. I kind of improved the efficiency of the virus." Now it was Carson turn to curse.

TBC

A/N: A galloglass was a servant or mercenary sworn to protect an Irish or Scottish chieftain with their life, particularly in battle.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry this has been so slow in coming. I got another story started and RL has been more than a little stressful lately (cliff notes version: the prof I wanted to do a thesis with didn't get tenure, so I'm looking for another project and advisor). In happier news, I got another story started. I played around with a couple scenarios of how to finish this particular story. I think I'm sticking with my original plan.

"Efficient, how," asked Carson taking the laptop from Dr. Randall, and staring at the diagram on the screen. At the moment, it resembled an abstract drawing.

"It's got a little longer incubation period, about three to four days, then full onset. Maybe a twelve-hour window to find a cure after symptoms start to appear," explained Kyte.

"So basically, infect as many individuals as possible, with little recourse for treatment," rephrased Colonel Caldwell. "Quite brilliant." Dr. Weir, Dr. Randall, and Dr. Beckett all exchanged nervous looks at his apparent detachment. Dr. Mason looked mildly puzzled at the separate sets of reactions, not sure if she should be nervous, proud, or scared.

"I don't understand how you could go ahead and synthesize this without any proper precautions, you know like, oh say, biolevel 3 containment," glared Dr. Randall at Dr. Mason, trying to pick the shards of plastic out of her hand.

"Look Katydid, you were always good at designing viruses, all theory, no practice. I wanted to see if your theory could actually work. I thought since this was targeting Wraith DNA, there'd be no problem, if there was, Atlantis' system would have isolated the lab,"

"With you and how many other people you put at risk? You expected me to come up with another brilliant solution? Actually, in this case, two? Not to mention what I just did?

"Two solutions?" asked Carson, noting the sudden increase in tension.

"Katydid here designed a sort Swiss Army knife of viruses. It can seek several different sequences of DNA. For each separate strain, you need a different cure. Grotsky would have been very proud of you," explained Dr. Mason.

"Quit calling me that, you always had to use that nickname, you could never call me by name. Was it that you could never accept I was better than you, or, you couldn't trust me and my judgment? That was certainly true in school, and it's certainly true now. I erased that file for a reason," Dr. Randall snapped, slowly warming up.

"Please, can we get back to the matter at hand," broke in Dr. Weir. Kyte and Carson suddenly realized how tired she looked, like a parent wondering what the kids had gotten into this time. "You two can rehash any old arguments later. You were saying something about two solutions?"

Kyte took a deep breath, forcing the anger back down. "The virus I designed and Dr. Mason modified, looks for either a Wraith DNA sequence or the markers of the Iratus bug. Since Teyla and Colonel Sheppard will each be affected by a separate component, we'll have to devise two separate treatments. I'm hoping Carson's expertise with the retrovirus will be helpful for treating Colonel Sheppard. I'm worried he may not have as much time after going a few rounds with the Wraith flu," her voice trailed off as she began considering several scenarios. "I'd like to tell them what the situation is, it is after all my fault." To Dr. Weir, the haunted look in Kyte's eyes said it all, she had possibly condemned Teyla and Colonel Sheppard to a hell of her own design. Dr. Weir nodded, then left. Caldwell followed shortly, after spending a moment debating whether or not to add his take on the situation. He was afraid that his military views might result in his being the recipient of several rounds of needle pokes since Dr. Beckett as CMO did outrank him, in theory. A theory he wasn't willing to test at the moment.

Let me see that hand, lass," said Carson, grabbing a pair of forceps and carefully pulling out the remaining shards of plastic. She refused to meet his eyes and he knew she was furious, mainly at herself. She winced momentarily when he pulled out one of the deeper pieces, and he knew she was taking a perverse pleasure in the pain. "You don't need stitches, although I'm going to wrap up your palm. You'll need to have someone check it every other day to make sure there's no infection.

"That's the least of my worries."

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Teyla accepted the situation quite calmly, much better than Dr. Randall expected. In Kyte's mind, there was a certain twisted irony, being infected with something designed to kill Wraith, when you had been fighting them your whole life. She preferred the Colonel's outrage, to Teyla's quiet acceptance.

"You mean this stupid bug bite is causing problems again?" he asked, although not using those exact words, pacing wildly around the infirmary.

Carson ran interference and tried to get him to calm down, "When you get a viral infection, the body doesn't completely rid itself of the infection. It becomes dormant; although under certain it can reactivate, like chickenpox causing shingles. There's no danger of the retrovirus reactivating itself in your case, but rather this new virus is seeking out the markers left from it, seeing them as 'Wraith.'"

For the next few hours Colonel Sheppard alternated between pacing and sitting on one of the infirmary beds. Teyla attempted to meditate, dealing with the situation in her own way. Colonel Sheppard wondered if she would let Halling know of the situation. "So you decided to see how effective this anti-Wraith virus was?" Sheppard swore, finally breaking the relative silence and questioning several people's ancestries, among other things.

"Sorry, should have asked you to go find one of Steve or Bob's friends," replied Kyte softly, absorbing the verbal blows. She knew he had every right to be furious, and despite Dr. Mason's role, she had designed this virus. Colonel Sheppard sighed and finally flopped onto one of the beds. "You and the others will figure out something, right?" Kyte nodded. "How can you be so sure," he persisted.

"As my cross country coach used to quote, 'Do or do not. There is no try.'"

"Ah, the wisdom of Yoda." Teyla looked puzzled for a moment at the reference. He went back to pacing, not quite wanting to leave the infirmary, despite his hatred of the place, yet unable to sit quietly awaiting his possible fate. After a little while, Colonel Sheppard looked over at Kyte, typing awkwardly on the laptop with a bandaged hand. She was still in scrubs, although she'd convinced someone to remove the IV. She had been working nonstop since they'd entered, a tray of food, cold and untouched sat nearby. "What did you do, after you left the lab, when you worked with Dr. Mason?"

"I worked. After a couple months, my friend Stacey got me a job as a research tech in the physics lab where she was doing research and I had done some work as an undergrad. After a while the prof pulled some strings and I got into another graduate lab, where I did my thesis."

"Why didn't you stay in physics?"

"The odds are good, but the goods are odd. Before you ask, I did tell that one here. Dr. Simpson laughed, but I don't think Miko found it funny." Kyte saw the Colonel laughing.

"I hope Rodney didn't hear that one. What did you before the lab job?" he had caught the timing slip in her phrasing.

"Bartended. Worked at a meat packing plant out in the East Bay, carving up carcasses. Tried to sort some things out."

Sheppard caught her eye and there was momentary flash of understanding. When things happened, bad things, that were the result of your actions, there was no true forgiveness, no matter what anyone else said. There was only atonement, which required self-sacrifice, sweat, tears, and aching muscles, at the least. Grace, if it existed, was divined by surviving another day, or maybe it was a signal that you weren't done with your penance yet. Sheppard made a mental note to check on Dr. Randall for a few days when this was all over.

Dr. Mason may have been listening before he walked into the area, apologetic look on his face, carrying a laptop and mug of coffee. "I have a couple ideas, plus I have a small peace offering," he said to Dr. Randall. She looked at the mug, which contained a few inches of thick brew. "I found your espresso maker. Figured you could do with a doppio. You used to run on this stuff. Guess you still do," he shrugged, at a loss for words for the situation. Part of him wanted to apologize, but part of him still harbored anger towards Kyte. Who was she judge what was right and what was wrong? From what he'd heard, the Wraith were a serious threat. So what if there were a few casualties?

Kyte put the mug down, pointedly, without touching the contents, and looked at the computer. "That won't work, and neither will that. Have Carson and Dr. Carol Biro made any progress?" He nodded.

"They're trying to modify the retrovirus and Colonel Sheppard's subsequent treatment, but they're struggling with how to deal with Ms. Teyla Emmagan's case.

"_Still hasn't lost the Southern school of thought. Can't call a woman by her first name unless there's a title in front of it_," Kyte mused. She pushed her hair back, willing herself to think, frustration evident on her face. She really wanted to hit something, anything. She thought of a line from a movie, "_I'm tired of coming up with last-ditch solutions._" She loved that movie, but would never admit. "_C'mon, this isn't cancer_", she told herself. "_But what if we get the body to think it is_," she thought with sudden insight, then turned back to the computer. She was lost in thought for the next several hours, oblivious to any goings on. Her body pleaded for sleep, and she silently bargained, '_just a little while longer'_, trying to push through the exhaustion, like she had on many occasions, swallowing yawns. She ignored a second tray of food, eyes never leaving the screen as she watched for a bottle of water. Dr. Randall finally looked up, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I think we found a way to treat Colonel Sheppard," said Carson, as Kyte started.

"Good because I think I have a solution for Teyla," she replied, offering the laptop to him.

He squinted at the screen. "That's original, using RNA to over-express and knock out the DNA." Kyte shrugged.

"Hopefully it works. I guess we'll know soon enough. Like before, this probably won't be pleasant." Carson nodded, and left to go make preparations.

"Rodney, I need a favor." Dr. McKay had been dashing between his lab and the infirmary, attempting to keep tabs on the progress in the infirmary, while trying to organize the lab from his absence. Carson looked over at the two, deep in debate. Dr. McKay didn't appear too happy with her request, but was nodding his consent before he left.

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"We're just keeping them here for observation," explained Carson as Dr. Weir and Colonel Caldwell surveyed the two figures in the infirmary. Somehow he had managed to get them both to consent to scrubs and various monitoring devices.

"I am glad both the Colonel and Ms. Emmagen are recovering," said Colonel Caldwell, "but I'd like to see the anti-Wraith virus."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Dr. Randall erased all copies from the system, as well as the cures, and the original virus," said Carson softly. There was a note of regret in his voice.

"What," bellowed Caldwell. Carson was sure that several bets had been placed on the number of decibels regarding his reaction.

"Actually, all copies except one," said Dr. Weir, holding up a memory stick. As leader of this expedition and someone under my direction, Dr. Randall gave this to me. I will of course report this entire incident to Stargate Command, but the data and full details will stay here."

'I think this calls for a discussion," snapped Colonel Caldwell. "Senior staff, my office, one hour."

TBC

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been reading. The quote about the odds being good, was from my sister's observations of her physics department. The last about last ditch solutions is from _Under Siege_.


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